


The Troubles of being a Doctor's Wife

by Arlome



Category: Poldark - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-14 18:37:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11789073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arlome/pseuds/Arlome
Summary: Fishermen become mortally ill at the most inconvenient times.





	The Troubles of being a Doctor's Wife

**Author's Note:**

> Written for fuckyeahdwightcaroline's fanwork week on tumblr.  
> This lovely couple deserves so much more love than they're getting!
> 
> I have no idea what the Enys' butler's name is, so I named him Wilkins.

They move together in near darkness; skin against skin, lips against lips, heartbeat against heartbeat, as thin shadows dance on the chamber's walls. Her delicate hand is fisted in his sunny hair, and his sure fingers are pressing into the tender flesh of her inner thigh as he seeks to be drawn deeper into the comfort of her body. His name is carried like a prayer on her lips when he buries his handsome face in her neck, his teeth grazing her soft skin.

"Oh," she breathes against his ear, "Oh, my love!"

He groans in response, echoing her words in gasped murmurs and desperate kisses.

They are sprawled across the bed, their bodies pressed tightly together in their lovemaking. One candle burns steadfastly in the corner, casting faint gleams of light across her flushed face. Her enamored husband, whose adoring eyes turn black in semi-darkness and desire, lowers his lips to hers; mouth moist and warm from use-  
A strong knock on the door halts the couple's amorous activities; her alarmed gasp is sharp in her husband's ear.

"Master Dwight," the sound of their butler's voice comes faint but distinct through the heavy oak doors, "a man from Sawle at the door for you. He claims it is rather urgent, Sir."  
Dwight heaves a disappointed sigh and smiles at his wife apologetically.

"Of course," he replies, his voice still strained with his previous exertions, "pray tell him that I shall be with him directly; Thank you, Wilkins." 

"No, no, no!" his dejected wife pouts and tries to hang on to his shoulders as he withdraws and leaves the warmth of her body in favor of attempting to locate his breeches on the floor despite the darkness, "cannot your precious patients wait until dawn to be mortally ill? 'Tis most inconsiderate of them!"

A snort and a chuckle from the direction of the floor tells her that he understood her jest and she smiles mischievously despite her disappointment and drops her hands to her sides and presses her knees together. Dwight stands up, tucking his shirt into his breeches and fastening them. He bends to kiss her on the lips, and she feels him smiling broadly.

"I'm sorry, my lovely Caroline, "he breathes into the open mouthed kiss, "I promise that I shall right this wrong when I return."

He makes to rise from her side when she catches his face between her hands and presses her lips to his ear.

"Make sure that you do, dear husband," she whispers devilishly, "and I promise to ride _you_ for pleasure."

His eyes are wide as she releases him and his cheeks are flushed as he laughs, simultaneously surprised and delighted at his wife's audacity. 

Dwight reaches the door and turns to her, and Caroline can see, even in the scarce candlelight, that his eyes are dancing with mirth and content.

"You are a wicked woman, Mrs. Enys," he sighs mischievously, "and I am the most fortunate of men." 

His eyes linger on her naked form, sinfully sprawled across their marriage bed, and he bites his lower lip for composure; then he shakes his head as if to clear his thoughts and with one final smile exits the bedchamber.

Caroline smiles triumphantly and burrows under the blankets, reveling in the sensation of the silk against her heated skin. 

It is indeed incredibly unfortunate to be deprived of one's husband's ardent attentions during coupling for the sake of an ailing fisherman, Caroline contemplates with a smug little smile, but such are the troubles of being a doctor's wife.

She'll get him all to herself once he stumbles back home, tired and starved; and when she does- oh, then he'll be thoroughly at her mercy.

Content and satiated, Caroline sleeps.


End file.
